


A Domestic Mess

by Lil_Lizard_Leah



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bad Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Stan Puts The Ass In Casserole, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Lizard_Leah/pseuds/Lil_Lizard_Leah
Summary: "Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris were a power couple; anyone who knew them would tell you such. They were inhumanly good at everything they did, outrageously good-looking, and most of all they were just genuinely good people.From the outside they seemed perfect, but behind closed doors they weren’t as highly polished.Stan and Mike were a domestic mess."





	A Domestic Mess

Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris were a power couple; anyone who knew them would tell you such. They were inhumanly good at everything they did, outrageously good-looking, and most of all they were just genuinely good people.

From the outside they seemed perfect, but behind closed doors they weren’t as highly polished.

Stan and Mike were a domestic mess. Cleaning? Piece of cake. Laundry? No problem. Grocery shopping? They’ve got it in the  _bag_. But ask them to put those groceries to good use… and suddenly you’ve got a couple of turkeys running around with their heads chopped off.

It’s not that they were bad at cooking, more just that they didn’t do it very often. They knew how to make the basics. Macaroni and cheese, toast and eggs; they knew enough to get them by. But trying new recipes had never been a topic of discussion within the Hanlon-Uris residence.

Which is why it was so shocking when Stan came home one day with a cook-book in hand and two grocery bags ready to burst.

 

Mike rushed to the front door, quickly taking the heavy bags from Stan’s arms and carrying them to the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” Mike asked quizzically, peering into the contents of one of the sacks.

“So, I was thinking…” Stan began, toeing off his loafers and setting them on the shoe rack.

“Uh-oh.” Mike teased as he began placing things on the counter.

“We should cook more.” Stan continued, ignoring Mike’s humor. “We need to broaden our horizons, try new things.”

“Since when have you thought that?”

“Since earlier today when Janice told me she’d cooked a three-course meal for her six children and grumpy husband on a whim this weekend, ‘just for fun’.” Stan made air quotes around the last bit, quoting Janice’s own words with a scoff. “Who does that for fun!?”

“Janice does, apparently.” Mike responded smartly.

“Yeah, well as much as I hate Janice’s smug nonchalance, it got me thinking; I want to be able to cook for our family one day. I want to be the one in the office boasting about the ridiculous food I fed my ‘too many children’ and ‘terrible husband’.”

Mike cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face.

“Minus the last part, of course.”

“Mhm, of course.” Mike agreed soundly, nodding along.

“So, I impulsively bought a cook book and all the ingredients for the first recipe.”

“What’s the recipe?” Mike asked, picking up the book from the counter.

Stan shrugged as Mike flipped through it backwards, looking at all the brightly colored pages until he landed on the first page, which featured a large photo of a Green Bean Casserole.

“Baby… you hate green beans.”

“I do not  _hate_  them, Michael.”

“Last week when your order from Chow’s arrived with green beans in it, you spent ten minutes picking them all out and individually cursing at each one before you’d eat the stir-fry.”

“That was then, and this is now.”

“And now you love green beans?” Mike asked, cocking his eyebrow playfully.

Stan grabbed a green bean from where he’d begun rinsing them off and brought it to his lips, taking a large bite out of the vegetable while holding eye contact with his boyfriend.

Mike watched as Stan’s face constricted into poorly hidden disgust. Watching his nose wrinkle up was possibly the cutest thing Mike had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss Stan’s nose before eating the rest of the green bean from his fingers.

“Alright then, let’s get to cooking.” Mike clapped his hands together, earning an encouraged smile from Stan after he quickly swallowed his regret.

 

The recipe took all of two hours to finish, and by the end Stan was ready to admit defeat. Sat in front of them was a pile of charred slop that looked vaguely like it might have once contained green beans.

“It’s a disaster.” Stan pouted from where he sat on the counter, refusing to look at his monstrosity.

“It’s not that bad…” Mike offered, poking at the food with a fork. He hit an air pocket and warm grease sprayed his hand. “Yeah okay, it’s bad.” He laughed, reaching for a paper towel to clean himself off.

Stan looked solemn, head hung low and eyes sad.

“Hey, at least now Gordon Ramsey won’t have any competition.” Mike tried to joke.

Stan’s eyebrows shot up as his mouth dropped open in mock offense.

“Mike!” He whined, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

Mike laughed lightheartedly. “I’m sorry baby. Were you really gunning for his title?”

“Maybe I was.” Stan looked away, his tone stubborn.

“Well then, we’ll keep practicing.” Mike promised, exchanging the humor in his voice for sincerity.

Stan refused to look at him, jutting his lip out farther to exaggerate his pout.

“Hey, it was a joke baby. I swear.” Mike said, stepping between Stan’s legs and tilting his chin up so Stan couldn’t avoid his gaze.

‘What can I do to make it up to you?” Mike asked, playing along with Stan’s little fit. ****

“Eat my casserole.” Stan demanded confidently.

Mike’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, a surprised chuckle escaping his mouth.

“Really?”

Stan shot him a look as if to say ‘yeah, really’.

Mike sighed, rolling his eyes playfully and stepping to the side so he was face to face with their dish. He grabbed his fork from earlier and began digging into the least burnt area he could find, scooping a healthy portion on to the utensil and bringing it to his mouth.

“If I die, tell my momma I love her.”

Mike heard Stan make a noise of resentment before it was drowned out with the sound of his chewing. He quickly moved the food to the sides of his mouth, trying to avoid his tongue, and by relation, his taste buds.

But his mouth still found the flavor, and in a moment of complete astonishment, it was actually… fucking delicious.

“Holy shit.” Mike spoke with his mouthful.

“Ew, babylove, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Stan chastised.

“Stan- Stan this is actually good!” Mike continued, ignoring his boyfriend’s reprimand.

Stan looked unconvinced, so Mike grabbed another forkful and shoveled it into his mouth as quickly as possible, grinning (with his mouth still full) after a few bites.

“See!?”

“Okay okay, chew your food before you choke, please.” Stan hopped down from the counter, standing beside Mike and staring down at the unappetizing looking meal they’d prepared.

“There’s no way this actually tastes okay.”

“Better than okay.” Mike loaded up his fork once again, but this time raised it to Stan’s mouth, ushering him to take a bite. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And Stan knew that was true. No matter how small or insignificant the fib may be, Mike had never lied. Honesty was one of the key pillars of their relationship.

So with brave uncertainty, Stan took the food into his mouth, getting ready to have to spit it out when-

“HOLY SHIT!” Stan echoed Mike’s earlier reaction, full mouth and all.

“I know! We did it!” Mike shouted excitedly.

“Fuck you, Gordon Ramsey!” Stan shouted along.

Mike laughed as he walked across the kitchen to grab a few plates. As he was reaching up into their cupboards he felt a pair of arms circle around his waist and a soft pressure against his back.

“Thanks for doing this with me.” Stan murmured into Mike’s shirt.

Mike lowered his arms, placing his hands atop Stan’s.

“I’d do anything, as long as it was with you.”

“You sap.” Stan smiled, his heart filling with joy.

Mike’s stomach growled beneath their hands, alerting them to his increasing hunger. Stan laughed and pulled away from Mike, helping him with their plates.

“Okay, let’s eat this delicious abomination so we don’t have to look at it any longer.”


End file.
